The Hire 134.

In Northern Nastell. The Duchy Of Phelm. The City Of Almaic...

"Yes!" says sir Percavelle Lé Dic in a tone of triumph, who then adds in delight "The beast has fallen".
The large, heavily armoured knight notices the looks directed at him by  the runner Lisell Maera and Darid Parsen the cavalry commander.
So he slaps shut the faceplate of his full helm. From behind which, you can hear him chuckling.
The attractive young woman from the city-state of Brattonbury, and the cavalry officer from the kingdom of Druvic, share a look.
Then they look away to the east, towards the half of the north wall of Almaic on the otherside of the road that leads up to the city gates.
Then the water elemental spouter Zaneff says "Think he's alright". Much to the relief of both the runner, and the cavalry officer who is a member of lord Farque's personal council.
Not so the former earl of Lé Dic. Who is never one to swear. Ever.
But from behind the closed visor of his full helm, the knight in the order of Saint Mar'che can be heard loudly muttering "Fuck" in a tone of what can only be described as, abject disappointment.
"Think he's alive?" asks Tamric Drubine the field commander in a slight tone of a worry from where he's standing upon an archers platform in one of the enemy battlelines, watching the assault upon the north wall of Almaic. Specifically upon the eastern half of the north wall of the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
"He'll be fine" says Mira Reinholt the mage in a dismissive tone as he stands bedside the nobleborn teenager from the kingdom of Sarcrin.
"I've seen him fall from higher walls than these" dryly adds the mage from the city-state of Vexil, who is in exile from his homeland.
"I think he's alive" says subcommander Waiamin who is taller even than the mage Reinholt "Pretty sure he's moving about" adds the subcommander to Tamric Drubine.
"See, told you" says the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, who wasn't the least bit worried at what happened.
"You alright boss?" asks Teabagger the goblin Cunt in concern. His general Dorc da Orc groans as he lies there on his back on the ground after falling nearly forty five feet from the top of the north wall of Almaic.
Well to he didn't exactly fall. He was shunted off it by spellcraft. Much to the annoyance of the large ork who lies there groaning, gasping for breath.
"Boss" says the goblin commander who then looks to one of the black clad Farqian soldiers standing nearby, who just shrugs his shoulders, and nods his head to the big, burly ork lying on the ground.
The small, bright green goblin who is originally from the kingdom of Melaurn, looks at the ork weaponsmith, who is grimacing.
Teabagger is about to say something else, but Dorc da Orc gets in first with a gasped "General".
The ork warleader groans, then adds "It's general" followed by a gasp then "Not boss" then after another gasp, it's "You stupid" then a final gasp, before saying "Fucken gob-a-lin".
"Yes boss" says the commander of the goblin battalion, who can't help but grin before adding "I mean general".
The large ork who hails from the southern polar region of the world, scowls at the small, bright, green goblin, then after groaning, and trying to sit up, Dorkindle says "Help your fucken general up".
As a number of the goblins in the battalion help their general to sit up, one of the nearby soldiers in the mercenary army from the lands Farque, steps over then asks the ork general "Warleader what happened?".
"Got fucken spelled off" says Dorc da Orc, who takes a deep breath now that he's sitting up. He winces then grunts as Teabagger points and says "You got an axe in your face general" followed by "And an arrow".
The large ork, who is the son of the former matriarch of the wolf tribe of orks, grunts as he looks up and sees the remaining ladder that he climbed, being pushed off the face of the wall. As a pair of goblins, and two soldiers in the robber baron Larimer's army, are climbing it.
"Fucknuts" mutters the ork weaponsmith as the already damaged ladder hits the ground, with the two goblins still holding onto it. While the two soldiers from north of the border, from the unruled lands in the Colevar Mountains. Leap clear before it slams into the ground.
Dorkindle reaches up, and rips the axe out of face. And as blood spurts from the wound in his face, a wound that immediately starts to close.
He biffs the axe up at the top of the wall that he was just knocked off, thanks to an enemy spellcaster.
"Hell" says commander Berric, who along with the sorcerer Dominic, pull their heads back from over the top of the wall.
The next instant, an axe passes up and by them, narrowly missing the two of them.
"I can't believe it survived that fall" says the commander of duke Hargen's personal guard.
"Nor can i" says Dominic the sorcerer, who continues with "That's one tough troll".
The commander, who also happens to be a highly accomplished swordmaster. Just nods, and doesn't mention the fact that one of his men, the experienced guard Ludoc. Doesn't exactly think the large green creature most of them think is a troll, is exactly a troll.
And as the sorcerer Dominic says to the commander of duke Hargen's personal guard "I need to reapply the fixed wards here, the barrier ones have gone"
The swordmaster Berric, who hails from the northern city of Savariss. Looks over at the experienced guard Ludoc. Who looks at him and shakes his head no after checking one of the men in the company, who have come along with their commander.
Who is checking up on the progress of the battle. As the armies of the five robber barons of the unruled lands in the Colevar Mountains, continue to attack the city of Almaic, the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
"Damn" mutters Berric the swordmaster at the death of one of his men.
Then the swordmaster, who is the senior most commoner in the entire duchy, who has a place of influence at the duke's court. Quickly looks down off the top of the wall again, and sees what might not be a troll. Sitting there on the ground, surrounded by goblins, as it pulls an arrow out of its face. Then another one out of the topknot on its head.
The commander of duke Hargen's personal guard, steps back then says to the sorcerer Dominic "I'll be back in a little while" the swordmaster from the northern city of Savariss follows that with "Me and my men will continue to check on the city's defences". Along with how the battle is progressing, and how, and if the defenders of Almaic will be able to withstand the assault upon the city that's the provincial capital.
While commander Berric and his men continue along the walkway on the top of the north wall of Almaic. Heading westwards, and passing over the city gates.
Down on the ground infront of the north wall, Dorc da Orc has got to a knee after plucking the arrow out of his purple coloured, dreadlocked topknot.
Who winces as he's pretty sure he's got some broken ribs. And by the feel of it, a back that's broken too. None of which he's worried about, as he'll be fully healed within a day or two.
Waves some of the goblins out of the way, so he can see what's going on with the assault upon this half of the north wall of the city of Almaic. On this hot summer's afternoon here in the north of the kingdom of Nastell.
Dorkindle grunts, then mutters, loudly "Need more of them fucken ladders".
As the two ladders that he used to climb up to the top of the wall, are useless as they're too badly damaged to be used again.
And the nearest ladder to where he and his goblin battalion are at the base of the wall. Is further away to the east, about forty yards to the closest one.
As Dorc da Orc looks back to see if anymore scaling ladders are being brought forward. One of the Farqian soldiers quietly says something in elven to another. Then says in common to the large ork "Is there anything else warleader?" followed by "Or anything else that's needed to be done".
The big, burly ork who hails from the frozen bottom of the world, who always likes being addressed as warleader. Grunts as he continues to watch the assault upon this half of the north wall of Almaic.
Then the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks, who is the son of the former matriarch of that particular tribe. Says what's needed to be done, as well as what's needed, specifically more scaling ladders.
Then as the large ork, scowls and growls at the goblins to help him stand up. The black clad Farqian soldier, glances at the other he spoke in elven too. And nods back to where field commander Drubine is watching the attack upon Almaic from a fortification in one of the battlelines further back.
The other black clad Farqian soldier, who is part of the scouts division in the mercenary army from the lands Farque. Takes off running, heading back through the army that's assaulting the north wall of the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm.
"See anywhere else they've topped it on our half of the wall?" asks Tamric Drubine who has once again has taken out his brass, cylindrical eyepiece so he can get a close up look at what's happening along the north wall of Almaic.
"There, near the end of the wall" says Mira Reinholt, who points away to the east as he looks through his own leather wrapped, brass, cylindrical eyepiece. And though they're not all that far from the city wall. They want to see what's happening up close.
"Some of Larimer's or Almard's men are up there" adds the spellcaster, who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands.
"Don't know how long for though" says the exiled Vexilian mage, who continues with "They're rushing men along the top of the wall to help that lot defending that section".
"Hmmm" murmurs the nobleborn teenager as he looks through his eyepiece, and spots what the mage Reinholt has described.
Then one of the officers on one of the other archers platforms here in the makeshift fortification that the enemy built, calls out "Another scout coming back from the wall".
Subcommander Waiamin hurries down the ladder, and off the platform he's sharing with the field commander, and the member of lord Farque's personal council.
And as the subcommander goes to speak with the scout who has just come back from the wall.
Tamric Drubine, or Tam as he's more commonly called by those who know him well, quietly says to the councilor beside him "This could turn into a grind and take quite a while".
The spellcaster, who is also a highly skilled swordmaster nods his hooded head, then quietly says to the teenage field commander "We've had pretty easy, and relatively quick victories so far in the campaign".
The Vexilian mage in exile shrugs his shoulders then adds "If this turns into a long, drawn out battle to take the city, then we just have to deal with it".
Field commander Drubine slightly nods his head to that. Then taking his eyepiece away from his face, he looks down and away to the right. And sees his subcommander coming back this way.
After climbing back up the wooden ladder to the archers platform, subcommander Waiamin says "The warleader wants more scaling ladders" the subcommander then explains what else Dorc da Orc wants done.
Tamric Drubine and Mira Reinholt listen in silence, then the youngest of the trio of field commanders in the mercenary army from the lands Farque glances at the once powerful mage, who just lifts his eyebrows in response.
Tam slightly nods, then the nobleborn teenager who is originally from the kingdom of Sarcrin says "Order our own forces to assault the wall, starting with those not in the advanced elements" he then adds "You know where".
"Yes field commander" says the subcommander Waiamin, who starts calling out orders.
A similar order has been given on otherside of the road here to the north of the city of Almaic.
The cavalry commander Darid Parsen has just spoken with a runner who has come from field commander  Leivyn's position.
After the messenger hops out of the trench, and heads back to the fortification in the battleline behind the one they're in.
Darid Parsen the cavalry commander says "Our forces are to join in with the assault upon the wall".
As sir Percavelle Lé Dic gets quickly up off the barrel he's sitting on, and looks with anticipation at the commander Parsen. Kalleb the second in command of the company asks "Us?".
"Where to follow after those who weren't in the advanced elements who fought this morning" replies the cavalry commander who is really a hordes outrider from the southern tundra by the name of Zubutai Timaginson who just happens to inhabit the body of Darid Parsen.
As sir Percavelle, or Percy as he's more commonly called by those who know him well, grunts in disappointment, and sits back down on the barrel.
About thirty of their fellow soldiers in the mercenary army from the lands Farque hurry by the trench they're in. And cross the last of the ground before the north wall of the city of Almaic. As the Farqian mercenary army, finally joins in on the full on assault upon the north wall of the city that's the capital of the duchy of Phelm . . . . . .